The Resistance Man (Bruno Chief of Police 6)

foreign troops who did not bother to hide their contempt for the conquered. And it was right for those youngsters to know that in a nation like France, no defeat was ever final, no fate was ever foreordained, that even amid the ruins and corpses of defeat, rebirth and recovery and renewal could always come.
    The Mass ended and the Mayor came forward to stand by the coffin, his head bowed in homage before he turned to address the crowded church.
    ‘
Françaises et français
,’ the mayor began. ‘Dear friends and citizens of St Denis, we are here to pay honour to a brave son of France and to the cause of freedom for which he fought. Nothing I could say here would match the courage and sacrifice of thousands of our young men and women who stood for France in our bleakest hour, when that dark flight of the crows haunted our sweet land and the panzers rolled through our villages. We thank them for what they have taught us about this France that we love. We stand in awe of their courage and we extend our sympathies to their families for their loss. And we give thanks to the Lord, in this church where our ancestors have prayed for a thousand years, that Loïc Murcoing was able to live the rest of his life in pride and dignity in this valley that he had helped to free. And we pray that our sons and daughters will never again have to bear such burdens.
Vive la France, vive la République.
’
    While the soldiers presented arms and the choir burst into the
Marseillaise
, Bruno joined in the words as he reflected that his Mayor had a rare gift among politicians, never to speak too long. Along with the Mayor, Jacquot, Joe, the Baron and Montsouris, Bruno took his place beside the coffin, and as the anthem came to its end he gave a quiet word of command and they lifted it onto their shoulders. The officer ordered his men to port arms, and stooping a little under the burden the coffin-bearers followed Father Sentout and the file of troops down the nave and out through the churchyard to the cemetery.
    ‘Now,’ said Bruno and the six men began to pay out the ropes and the coffin sank slowly as the first shots of the salute rang out. As the echo of the third and final volley died away, Loïc Murcoing rested on the soil for which he had fought. One by one, his relatives and neighbours came up to pick more of that soil from the heap by the grave and toss it onto the coffin lid. By the time they had all done, and each of those present had dropped a handful of earth, the coffin was no more to be seen.
    Bruno looked up to scan the wooded hill behind the cemetery, and then across beyond the church to the hedges that lined the winding road to the hamlet of St Félix. He felt certain that somewhere in that shadowy terrain Paul Murcoing was watching the interment of his grandfather. A cruel irony, thought Bruno, that Loïc Murcoing was being honoured for taking to the hills to fight the enemy, while his grandson was now hiding in those same hills to evade the justice of France.
    *
    In Paris,
Le Monde
was published as an evening newspaper, but it did not reach the provinces until the following morning. The Internet, however, had made it universally available as soon as the print edition was published, and Jacqueline was reading the text of her article on her smartphone, the Mayor peering over her shoulder to make out the words on the tiny screen. Around them in the council chamber of the
Mairie
the crowd lined up for glasses of wine and tiny sandwiches and canapés. The
vin d’honneur
the Mayor had arranged to follow Murcoing’s funeral was in full swing.
    ‘It’s weird,’ said Gilles, squeezing his way through to Bruno with two glasses of red wine and handing one to him. ‘Myteaser piece on the nuclear stuff ran on the website yesterday and got almost zero reaction. But this morning’s article on the great train robbery has really started something. There was so much traffic that it crashed the website and everybody’s trying to follow it up. My editor’s ecstatic.’
    ‘That’s another dinner you owe me,’ said Bruno.
    ‘I know, but I’ve been working non-stop.’
    ‘That’s not what I hear. The word is that you were dining with a beautiful brunette at my favourite restaurant last night. Hand in hand, is what I heard.’
    Gilles eyed Bruno. ‘Do you know everything that goes on round here?’
    Bruno grinned at him and clinked their glasses together. ‘She’s a fine woman and you’re a lucky man. But watch yourself;